


Revelations of a Ghost-Gazer

by gauntTwister



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Humor, Reveal, phicphightstuff2k19, tbh this is mostly jack being a dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gauntTwister/pseuds/gauntTwister
Summary: Jack starts to question why his ghosthunting equipment malfunctions around Danny - exclusively around Danny.Prompted by Duckapus (Tumblr)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 199





	Revelations of a Ghost-Gazer

There was another fire in the lab downstairs. The portal had sealed itself shut as a precautionary measure against the blaze, but most of the other equipment was at serious risk. The soldering iron had melted through the plastic casing upon which it had been left, and it had fused several important wiring components together before the works had gone up in flames. The lab's smoke alarm had been dismantled long ago, not in anticipation of this incident but because of the toaster on the other work-table that had a terrible tendency to go unchecked until it had all but incinerated its contents. This meant that, although the lab wasn't uninhabited, the fire itself went unnoticed and unattended.

Jack Fenton was at it again.

He stood at the opposite end of the lab, a miniaturized ecto-shield generator in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. The fire behind him crawled slowly across the tabletop, hoping to grab onto the more sizable machinery at the other end, and inched upwards, strengthened by the stack of loose papers that had been left out. It chewed them up in seconds, sending up a dark plume of smoke that crawled across the ceiling. After a moment, the smoke alarm in the kitchen went off.

This, Jack noticed. He turned, jumped in surprise at the growing flames before him, and made a dive for the fire extinguisher in the corner. He doused most of the lab with it, waited for the smoke to settle, and doused it again just to make sure.

"Jack?" his wife's voice floated down to him from upstairs, "Is that the smoke alarm again? What's going on down there?"

"Ahm - nothing, honey!" he called back, a little too quickly. He could hear her footsteps coming down the stairs, and he held the extinguisher behind his back in the hopes that she wouldn't notice that he'd just used it to make a mess of the lab around him.

Maddie paused at the landing, crossing her arms. "Jack. What did you do this time?"

"Me? I didn't do anything!" Jack exclaimed. He jerked one thumb at the portal behind him, which reopened now that it wasn't in danger of shorting out. "You should have seen the ghost that just came through, though - I got him good this time!"

Maddie sighed. "With the Fenton fire extinguisher? Really, dear? You know how many times I've told you to be more careful."

Jack slumped. "Yeah, I know. But it was an accident, and I took care of it - !"

"Yes, I'm sure you did," said Maddie, sliding a glance to the ruined equipment on the worktable across the room, "Jack, why don't you take a break for the afternoon? I'm sure this will all still be here tomorrow."

"But - " Jack protested, "I was this close to fixing the interference on the ghost-gazer - !"

Maddie threw a hand up. "Look, Jack, I'm not going to argue with you - but you've been at it every day this week, and I think it's starting to get to you."

"Maybe it is," Jack admitted, shoulders sagging. He glanced over at the malfunctioning thing; ever since he'd finished constructing it last week, it had pointed him directly upwards, as if a ghost was floating over his head and he didn't know it. _Yeah, right, like I wouldn't notice if there was a ghost right on top of me!_ He'd tried at least three separate methods of fixing it; this was, perhaps, the most meticulous he'd ever been in a project this small, but Maddie was right about it bothering him. One day, he thought he'd had it. The malfunctioning blip had disappeared - at least, until the kids got home from school that afternoon. He'd come up to tell them how excited he'd been that he'd finally gotten it to work, and as if on cue it had malfunctioned again. It was almost as if it didn't want anyone other than him to see it. _Stupid ghost-gazer. It should know better than to mess with Jack Fenton! I'll show that piece of junk who's boss!_

Unfortunately, he hadn't actually done that yet.

He tromped upstairs anyway, defective machine in hand, and sat at the kitchen table instead. He couldn't seem to put the thing down, even though he was tired of it. The blip, he noticed, was honed in on something upstairs. "That's strange," he muttered to himself. He remembered the last time that a ghost had gotten into the house - he'd fired up the ecto-foamer to take care of it, and instead of locking onto the actual ghost, it had locked instead onto the door to Danny's room. He'd come close to blowing a hole in the house that night, and he was glad that Maddie hadn't been around to see the mess. Danny certainly hadn't forgiven him - _can't you go and screw things up somewhere else?_ he'd snapped, and if Jack was honest it still stung - and he was increasingly certain that something upstairs was causing the interference. He knew it wasn't either of the kids' phones; he'd had Maddie run a handful of tests with hers, and there hadn't been any problems. Maybe there was something glitchy in the wiring of the house? That would certainly explain why it was always coming from upstairs, and why the other sensors weren't picking it up.

He realized that, no, the kids' rooms weren't wired in with the rest of the house. He'd suggested a few months ago that they should consider having a few security measures put in, but Jazzypants had been adamantly against it. She'd argued tooth and nail about it until Jack had dropped the subject two weeks later. Danny, he recalled, had been much less civil; at least Jazz had the decency not to accuse him outright of wanting to spy in on her life. That was almost the first thing out of Danny's mouth when he'd heard about it.

That said, the ecto-foamer incident had been a week prior to that conversation, and Jack supposed that might have had something to do with Danny's hostility.

He recalibrated the device for the eighteenth time. His reasoning was that maybe, if he was standing in the kitchen this time, it might recognize that it was being stupid. It didn't, and Jack sighed. He'd refused to let his wife touch it so far - he wanted to solve this little problem for himself! - but he reluctantly handed the thing to her. "Maddie," he said glumly, "I hate to ask, but did you want to take a look at it?"

Maddie took it, doing another quick recalibration to no avail. "Well," she said with a contemplative sigh, "I suppose you could always scrap it and start over, if it's giving you this much trouble - "

"Start over?" Jack exclaimed, "Just because of a little blip that won't go away? You think I'm going to give up that easy? Me - Jack Fenton? Give up?"

Maddie gave him a flat look. "Well, don't, then. I just think you should put it down and come back to it tomorrow - or next week. You might have better luck if you find something else to work on in the meantime."

Jack finally set the device down. "Maybe you're right. Maybe this is getting further under my skin that I realized. Well! Guess I'm done worrying about that for now!" He picked up the device, tossing it down the stairs and slamming the lab door behind him. "Guess it's fudge time!"

* * *

He was not done worrying about it. The kids had gone to bed an hour ago, and Maddie had fallen asleep on the couch with a good book. Jack was back downstairs, ghost-gazer half taken apart on the work-table. He'd checked the wiring at least twice from top to bottom, and even run it through the spectral scanner to see if it had been overtaken by a mischievous little haunt itself. It hadn't, and even the spectral scanner was overcome with the interference. Jack wondered if it was some kind of ghost virus. Computers got viruses, after all - who was to say they couldn't get ghost viruses? He thought it was entirely possible. He gave both of the faulty machines a once-over with the Fenton Creep Cleanser. That, finally, seemed to do the trick. The mysterious blip disappeared from both devices at once.

Jack was stunned. He'd almost run out of ideas, and hadn't fully expected something like that to even work in the first place. He stood over the devices in a moment of disbelief; how could it have been that easy, and he hadn't thought of it until just now? That, he decided, didn't matter. He'd figured it out, and he hadn't even needed Maddie to double-check anything for him. He held up both machines in triumph, nearly knocking the spirit-smasher off the side of the work-table, and ran upstairs. "Maddie - Maddie, I figured it out!"

Maddie started, blinking a few times in confusion. "Jack? What's - ?"

"I got it!" he beamed, "I finally figured it out! _Ghost malware!_ "

"Ghost malware," Maddie echoed, not really believing it but relieved that at least Jack had solved his little problem, "I'm sure you can tell me all about it in the morning - "

"I'm sure I can tell you all about it right now!" Jack interrupted, oblivious to the fact that it was just after ten, and also oblivious to the fact that his son had just disappeared out the window for the nightly patrols.

* * *

Jack couldn't believe it. It had been less than twenty-four hours, and the infuriating blips had returned. He'd thought, at first, that the malware ghost was merely persistent, but a second dose of Fenton Creep Cleanser had been all but ineffective. He'd hit it again, just in case, but had spiraled immediately back down into frustration. It had been working just fine last night - he'd even showed it to Maddie and everything! - what could possibly have happened between then and now that could have caused it to malfunction?

He muttered to himself as he tore the thing apart yet again. He'd been in a foul mood since he'd discovered the interference that afternoon, and had half a mind to go upstairs and track down the source for himself. Clearly - the thing was picking up something it wasn't supposed to be. _Maybe I'll just find whatever it is and get rid of it,_ he thought to himself. He was a great fan of getting rid of things, provided those things were problems. Finally, he decided that was what he was going to do. He trundled upstairs, ghost-gazer in hand, and paused outside Danny's room.

The door was very clearly marked _Keep Out_ and _Space Stuff Only!_ with hand-drawn posters; a tertiary sign hung under the rest: _The Astronaut is *in*_ which could also be flipped to _The Astronaut is *out*_ in case Danny wasn't home. Currently, he was in.

"Danny?" Jack opened the door and poked his head inside.

Danny scrambled for the loose papers sprawled out on the bed, shoving them haphazardly into his backpack. "Dad? What do you want? Ever heard of knocking?"

"Well, I wanted to ask you something, actually," said Jack, completely ignoring Danny's sarcasm. He let himself in (Danny groaned with a thick cover of distaste) and turned his gaze downward to the ghost-gazer. "Son," he said, "I think there's something in here that's making all the sensors downstairs go screwy."

"Didn't we have this conversation like two weeks ago when you built the thing in the first place?" Danny crossed his arms, "Remember how you said it must be broken?"

Jack frowned. "Well, I did say that. Then I ran a bunch of tests, and took it apart, and hit it with three doses of Fenton Creep Cleanser. I'm starting to think that there isn't anything wrong with it."

Danny hesitated. "Wait, where are you going with this - ?"

"Well, where I'm going is apparently up here," Jack said, still a bit puzzled, "If there's something here that's causing the interference, I want to get rid of it."

Danny sucked in his breath. "Dad," he said finally, after careful consideration of the best way to phrase this, "Get out."

"But - !"

"Out!" Danny snapped, "You really wanna go through all my stuff and probably break half of it until you find whatever it is that you think is making your stupid machine broken? I guarantee you're not gonna like it! Now get out of my room!"

Jack was silent. He knew that he and Danny had had a little bit of a rough patch lately, but somehow he hadn't expected him to be so hostile. He turned his eyes sheepishly downwards. "Well, if that's how you feel about it - then I guess I'll go back downstairs and make another stupid broken machine." He turned, without another word, and went back to the lab.

He wanted to toss the thing and start over. Maddie had been right. Maybe it was beyond fixing. He wished that Danny hadn't been so aggressive, though - after that time he'd almost gotten him with the Fenton Ghost Blaster, Jack was sure he'd made it up to him. Come to think of it, that one was probably malfunctioning, too. He remembered it had been during a ghost drill at home; he and Maddie had run through their basic routine, and he'd found what he'd thought was an actual ghost in the house's readings. He'd shot first and asked questions second, and he realized he'd put a hole in Danny's floor.

Despite the fact that he'd had it fixed, and put a rug over it to hide the discolored floorboards, he had a feeling that he still hadn't been forgiven for it. He was beginning to think that maybe he hadn't made it up to him after all. He'd say he would, but then something else would happen that would put him back at square one. He'd always thought of himself as fun-loving, and only a bit clumsy, but he was beginning to realize that, perhaps, Maddie was the only one who forgave him. Jazzypants did too, at least sometimes. Other times she'd go entirely off the rails, and he wouldn't know whether she'd do that or not until it happened. Maddie, on the other hand, could always predict how she'd react. She'd never been wrong, either - at least, not that he could remember.

He wondered if he was even still redeemable. He loved the kids - with all his heart, and he'd say it as often as he felt like! - but somehow he still felt inadequate. Loving them wasn't enough, if he got in the way as much as he did. Was there a way to fix it? Could he come to be more careful? He'd sometimes think that he could, and usually right after that he'd get carried away with something, and probably put a hole in something else. Maybe he wasn't any good. Maybe he had failed them already, and it was too late to take anything back.

The blip had moved. He didn't realize it at first, since he'd come to thinking so hard, and he paused. Had it really - oh, yes, it most definitely had moved. Jack frowned. Whatever kind of interference it was - it was in the kitchen now, and he knew better than to wait for it to relocate. Danny was upstairs, so he wouldn't be bothered about it. Maybe this thing would quit bugging him for real this time.

Or maybe Danny was right, and it really was irreparable.

Jack ran upstairs, following the blip on the ghost-gazer's screen. He thundered up to the kitchen doorway but that was as far as he got. The fridge was hanging open; halfway inside the thing stood Danny. He had at least a dozen assorted snacks stacked precariously in one arm, the corners of three frozen waffles sticking out of his mouth, and two entire jars of peanut butter in the other hand. Seeing Jack he froze, wide-eyed like a raccoon caught rooting through someone's trash, and frowned. Through the waffles in his mouth: "Whaffoo want?"

Jack paused, but then slumped. "Oh, nothing. I just thought - maybe this thing wasn't as broken as I said it was."

Danny said nothing but rolled his eyes to convey his displeasure. He kicked the fridge closed behind him, grabbed the jelly from the counter under one elbow, turned, and skulked upstairs.

Jack watched him go. He knew he had to make it up to Danny, at the very least - if he kept bumbling things away like he'd been doing, he'd never be able to break even. That said, Danny wasn't making this easy for him. He sat back at the kitchen table again and glanced down at the ghost-gazer; the mysterious blip had returned to its normal spot upstairs. Jack nearly broke the thing in half then and there, if just to be rid of it. _Upstairs, downstairs, the thing's clearly useless! Almost as useless as me,_ he thought dismally. At least a machine could be scrapped for parts. _Ever try scrapping a person? Can't do it. Too gross and messy._

For the first time that night, a new idea occurred to Jack Fenton. The idea was this: what if it really was picking up an ecto-signature? What if it wasn't just interference from something, but an actual, bonafide ghost? His mind turned slowly - which was the only way it really knew how to turn - but steadily, and he thought about it for a long time. If there really was a ghost loose in the house, it would have been spending an awful lot of time in Danny's room. That meant Danny was in danger - or, maybe he was the one that knew about it? Did he know about it on purpose? Had Jack Fenton's son become a ghost smuggler? What if it wasn't just one ghost, but a whole lot of them? What would a kid like Danny be doing smuggling ghosts, anyway? Was that why he'd become so secluded? Well, it was either that or because he was a teenager. Maybe both. _Yeah,_ Jack thought, _probably both._

Now, what was he going to do about it? The thought still wasn't sitting right in his mind - _Danny Fenton, ghost smuggler._ Jack frowned. If he hadn't made a mess of anything already that day, he'd have considered just going upstairs and confronting him about it. _But,_ said the small part of Jack Fenton's mind that was capable of thinking ahead, _what if you're wrong? What if you're wrong, and he doesn't forgive you this time?_ This made Jack pause, and was the reason that he and Danny didn't speak to each other for the rest of the night.

* * *

It was after lunch when Jack noticed that the blip had gone. This time, he wasn't quite so surprised, and his ghost-smuggler theory from the previous afternoon came back to him. If Maddie had been home, he'd have asked her what she'd thought about it, but she and Jazzypants had disappeared for the afternoon, and wouldn't be back until late. He remembered this only because Maddie had told him she'd pick up supplies for Fenton steaks on her way home, and they'd have them for dinner tomorrow.

So Jack Fenton had the house to himself until Danny got home later. He knew he really should talk to Danny about the whole thing - he'd swear up and down not to tell Maddie if he thought it would make Danny even a bit less bristly, but he knew he had to have more cards in his hand in order to get Danny to open up to him. Now that he was thinking about it, though - all those times when he'd almost hit Danny with this, or blown a hole in that, or lit all those on fire - it had been because Danny had registered on the ecto-scanners. Was he even keeping ghosts hidden around in his room, or had the ghost-gazer been locked on him instead? He did spend an awful lot of time up there, Jack realized. Was he keeping ghosts upon his person? At all times? Was he being controlled by one? By several? Did he need saving? Had he figured out how to control them instead? Did he have _ghost bodyguards?_ Was that even a thing that could happen?

Jack Fenton didn't know. All he knew was that he would have to have a serious talk with Danny about it the second he got home, before he'd inevitably disappear back into his room. _Danny,_ he'd say, _I have to ask you something very serious. Be honest with your dad. Are you falling in with gangs of ghosts?_ No, he realized, that was stupid. Maybe it'd be, _are you being controlled by ghosts?_ No, that was stupid too - the ghosts controlling him would just make him say that he wasn't, and that would get him nowhere. Jack thought very hard about it, and finally came up with a solution. He'd have to get the jump on them somehow - and without Danny finding out, either. He - Jack Fenton - was going to figure this out.

* * *

Danny'd had a long day. Dash had picked on him almost nonstop; he was certain he'd just flunked his algebra test; he'd overheard some things during lunch that were definitely about him, and it mattered less whether or not they were true than whether they were really embarrassing; he'd been whacked upside the head by at least two hackysacks that he had a suspicion weren't filled with bean pellets but rocks; on top of everything, he was exhausted because he'd had almost zero sleep the previous night.

At least he didn't have anything planned for tonight, he thought to himself as he trudged up the street to his house. Sam and Tucker were still with him, but he'd tuned them out long ago. Neither of them seemed to mind - they'd just turned to chatting with each other instead - and he was glad for it. Maybe he'd get caught up on sleep tonight, he hoped. He paused on the steps, turning back to Sam and Tucker. "I'll catch you guys later, okay?"

"Yeah, dude," said Tucker, "You've been super drained all day. Get some sleep, man. We'll catch you in the morning."

Danny sighed. "Thanks, Tuck. You guys are the best." He watched them head further down the street toward Sam's house. The dull thumping from where the second hackysack had hit him was finally starting to calm down - maybe he'd be able to sleep on that side later, and with any luck he wouldn't bruise too badly. He'd think of a way to get even with Dash, too. He hadn't actually seen him hurl either of the hackysacks, but he knew it had been because of him; whether it had been him or one of his ridiculous football buddies that had done the throwing was irrelevant. Maybe Danny'd overshadow him and have him sprain his ankle or something. Nothing broken - just enough to keep him off the team for a couple of weeks. Besides, he thought, surely one sprained ankle was worth the same as two enormous bruising welts? It'd probably hurt the same.

He knew he really shouldn't, though. If even Sam or Tucker found out it was him, they'd both probably be unhappy about it. He thought, somewhat sourly, that they might be on his side if they ever got whacked with a hackysack full of rocks. Oh, well. A kid could dream, right?

The front door to FentonWorks was unlocked, and Danny let himself in. The living room was empty, which meant that his mother wasn't home; he remembered vaguely that she'd told him she and Jazz would be out for the afternoon. _Great,_ he thought, _maybe I can get some friggin' sleep._ He dropped his backpack by the door; whatever homework he had could wait until tomorrow, and he contemplated whether or not he should even eat before going upstairs. Usually, he did. Sustaining a human, especially a growing one, was difficult; sustaining a growing human _and_ a ghost? Near-impossible. He remembered yesterday, when Jack had caught him raiding the fridge. He'd gone through everything he'd taken upstairs - how many PB&Js even was that, anyhow? - and by the following morning he'd been hungry again. At least he didn't have any of the _weird_ cravings. He supposed it could be worse. What did regular ghosts eat, he wondered. Whatever it was, it must have had the same nutritional value as human food, or at least one that was very similar.

Screw it. He'd raid the fridge again. The good thing about having someone like Jack Fenton for a father was that most of the things that went missing would be blamed on him, and most of the times he didn't remember anything specific enough to dispute it. Between him and Danny, groceries were lucky to last more than a day or two.

He had an entire cantaloupe tucked under his arm when he spotted his father across the kitchen. Instantly, he was on-edge. He turned. "Dad," he said, as neutrally as he could manage. He hadn't forgotten what had happened the previous afternoon, and he wasn't about to forgive it right away either.

Jack Fenton stepped forward. "Son," he said in turn. He almost forgot what came after that - _you practiced it and everything!_ \- but at the last second before it became awkward he remembered. He really wasn't used to being this confrontational, and if he was honest it was throwing him off. "Son, there's something I want to talk to you about."

Danny paused. Something didn't quite feel right, but he couldn't place why. He gave his father a suspicious glance, but then asked, mostly so that it wouldn't be silent: "Is it about ghosts?"

"Actually, yes," said Jack, straightening somewhat, "I think it's pretty important."

"Pass," said Danny, deciding that the cantaloupe would have to do for now and swinging the fridge shut. He wasn't entirely certain what Jack might have been up to - but if it had something to do with ghosts, Danny didn't want any part in it. He turned, the fruit still tucked under one arm, and headed up the stairs.

"Danny, wait!" Jack exclaimed, taking a half-step after him. "It's about ghosts - and it's about _you._ "

Danny froze partway up the stairs. His grip on the cantaloupe tightened as his hands instinctively wanted to curl up into fists. He could feel his face turn white. His mouth ran dry. _Where in the hell did that just come from?_ Slowly, he turned and gave his father a wide-eyed stare. "What?"

Jack stood at the landing, one hand on the banister. "Danny, I want to talk to you. It's very important."

Danny's voice was quiet. "Why?"

"Because," said Jack, "Because your mother and your sister aren't home. It's just the two of us. We could have a father-to-son chat."

"Is it about yesterday?" Danny asked slowly, suddenly aware of any missteps he might make. Somehow, Jack seemed off. Maybe it was because he was never this quiet; maybe it was because he was never this _serious._ That was it, Danny realized.

Jack nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"I don't want to talk about it," said Danny. He really didn't. It was beyond having to listen to whatever inane thing Jack might ramble on about; he realized he was actually dreading this conversation, not in the way that it might be about having to listen to him talk about ghosts but in the way that it might be about his grades, or about the fact that he'd been sneaking out of his room at night, or about the thermos that had mysteriously disappeared from the lab the other day after he'd misplaced his usual one.

Jack blinked. "Danny," he said finally, "I need to ask you something. If it wasn't important, I'd be talking to myself about it. Come down to the lab with me."

Danny hesitated. His gut told him everything about this was wrong; what could he have possibly said that would have tipped Jack off to anything? Nothing immediately came to mind, and that somehow made it worse. Unable to stand it, he found himself nodding along anyway. He set the cantaloupe down at the top of the steps, thinking he'd get back to it later, and followed Jack down through the kitchen. The closer he got to the lab, the more the lump in his stomach hardened. Whatever this was about - he knew it wasn't going to be good. Part of him just said to turn and go up to his room, but he squashed it down.

Jack held the door for him, and followed him down to the lab. It was almost completely empty; all of the work-tables had been cleared off, spare boxes of parts and components had been sorted and put away, and even the locked case of Fenton weapons had been relocated to a high shelf.

Danny felt small. "Dad. What's this about? What did you want to ask me - and how come it has to be down here?"

"Well, son," said Jack, "It's because it's about ghosts. I've been hunting ghosts for most of my life, you know. I can tell when they're near. I can smell 'em."

Danny took a step back, heart pounding. "Dad - where are you going with this?"

"Where I'm going," said Jack, "is I know there's ghosts around whenever _you're_ around. I figured out what's been causing that interference in the ghost-gazer."

Danny's mind raced. "What? I thought - you said it was broken - _you said it was - !"_

"Well, maybe I was wrong," said Jack. His gaze dropped from Danny's, and focused instead on the black boots of his jumpsuit. At least being honest was something he could get right. "I think I've been wrong about a lot of things, Danny - but, no matter what happens, know one thing. You're my son, and I love you." He met Danny's eyes again. "No matter what."

"Wait," said Danny, his eyes darting for a split second to the stairs behind Jack. Even if he was quick, he knew he wouldn't be able to make a run for it. "What do you mean no matter what?"

Jack just nodded once. "No matter what. Now, there's something I have to ask you. I know you might want to lie about it, but please don't."

"What? Why would I - ?" He knew very well why he would.

"I think it's because you didn't trust me," said Jack, "That kinda hurts - but I need you to be completely and entirely honest. Promise me you can do that."

Danny was silent.

Jack took a deep breath. "Danny - I found out you've been causing the interference with the ghost-gazer, and a fair amount of the other equipment as well. I need to know why."

"Why?" Danny echoed. He kept his hands behind his back so that Jack wouldn't see them shaking. "Well, I - "

Jack's face was serious. "Is it because you're a ghost, Danny?"

Danny's heart skipped a beat. "What? Why would I be - ?"

"Son, please," said Jack, "I need you to be honest. It's very important."

Danny could barely breathe. He tore his eyes from Jack's, and he wanted nothing more than to disappear. He could feel his face reddening. He couldn't stand it. Finally, hanging his head, he caved. "Yeah. I can be."

"And that's the honest truth?"

Danny nodded. It took all he had to keep from tears. He'd had nightmares about a confrontation like this for months after the accident - now here he stood, heartbeat slamming in his ears, red-eyed and shaking.

There was a long pause. Jack knelt down in an effort to level his massive frame with Danny. He set one hand on Danny's shoulder. "Do you know what this means?"

Danny didn't.

"It means I was right!" Jack cried, the serious expression dissolving immediately into a triumphant grin. "Me! Jack Fenton! It means that ghost-gazer isn't broken! Ha! I'm a genius! Take a look at this!" He grabbed the ghost-gazer off the work-table and shoved into Danny's hands. "That's how I figured it out, you know! I thought it was malfunctioning at first! But then I got to thinking, and - "

Danny stared down at the thing in his hands, but it hardly registered. He turned a second later back up at Jack, still very much upset but now also confused. "You're not mad? But - I kept hiding it - Dad, I'm a _ghost - !"_

"Ghost, shmost!" Jack exclaimed, throwing both hands up in the air, "You're a Fenton! You think I hate ghosts more than I love my own son? C'mere!" He pulled Danny into a massive two-armed hug, now beaming. "I'm proud of you, Danny, and I always will be!"

The lump in Danny's stomach was slowly beginning to melt away. Admitting to it had been awful, and it would take some time for his racing heart to slow - but the blind acceptance was reassuring. He returned his father's hug, taking a deep breath. "Look - I know I probably should have told you and Mom about it, but - "

"Are you kidding?" said Jack, "With all the stuff we've designed specifically to obliterate ghosts? No wonder you kept your mouth shut! I would have too, if I were you! But you know what?"

"What?"

"It means now I'm the one that gets to listen to _you_ yammer on about ghosts! You're a certified expert now! Just think about it - a boy who's a ghost, living with a family of ghost hunters! How's that for irony!"

Danny couldn't help but smile a little. "Well, half-ghost, actually - "

"Half?" Jack asked.

"Yeah."

Jack frowned, and the more he thought about it the more his eyebrows tried to tangle together in the center of his forehead. "How can you be half?"

"Dad," said Danny, "Sit down for a sec. This is gonna blow your mind."

Jack did.

Danny set the ghost-gazer down, and transformed. He still hesitated out of instinct, but his father's warmth and reassurance took the edge off, and the butterflies in his stomach finally settled. He watched Jack's eyes widen, and took a little bit of satisfaction in it; he turned himself about once so that Jack could get a decent up-close look at him. "Half. I can go back and forth."

"That's _awesome!"_ Jack cried, jumping back up to his feet again, "I bet you're the one that keeps setting off all the stuff down here too! Look at me go! I'm figuring out all sorts of things today!"

Danny nodded. "Yeah, and I'm the one that borrowed the spare thermos last week - "

"Hey, I was wondering where that thing went," said Jack, "Wait, does that mean you've been going out and hunting ghosts? Even after you always told us you never wanted to do that ever at all in your whole life?"

"Dad," Danny cringed, "Please don't make this lame - "

"Ghost hunting isn't lame, son!" Jack declared, giving Danny a hearty slap on the back and making him stagger forward, "I've never been more proud of you in my life! You're the best son a dad could hope for! Just wait 'til I tell your mother!"

Danny sucked in his breath. "Well, I - "

"Well, what?" said Jack, turning down to him.

"I'm not actually sure if I want her to know just yet," said Danny carefully. Between his parents, his mother was usually the one to take things more seriously, and just because Jack was excited didn't mean that Maddie would be.

"Well!" said Jack brightly, throwing an arm around Danny's shoulders, "I won't tell her if you won't! We'll keep this between just us two!"

"Dad. I'll tell her eventually - plus Sam and Tucker know about this too. They were there when it happened. Also I think Jazz might have figured it out, but she hasn't said anything to me about it yet. That's mostly why I have them over so much. It's all ghost stuff."

"That's gotta be a lot of ghost stuff!" said Jack, "I'm gonna go grab us some snacks, and we're gonna lock Maddie and Jazzypants out of the basement for the next ten hours, and you're gonna ramble on about all the stuff I don't know about ghosts!"

Danny thought that was alright. He was still a little surprised that his father had been the one to figure this out - he'd been worried for months that it would have been his mother - but he'd taken it almost in stride. _Well,_ he reasoned, _as much of a stride in anything as you have when you're my dad. But at least I don't have to keep hiding this from him, and he seems pretty happy. I guess I'm pretty happy about it too._  


_He said he was proud of me._


End file.
